||[Aug. 10th, 2017|06:32 pm]
Saturday's lunch party didn't break up until late in the afternoon, by which time durham_rambler and I were ready for some quiet time with the newspaper and the internet. But by late evening, we revived enough to feel that a breath of air, a little walk, some light refreshment would round the day off nicely. Saturday night on the main drag is pretty lively, and we walked straight past the tapas restaurant which had been our first option: there's nothing wrong with live flamenco music - indeed, there's much right with it, if that's what you're looking for, but on this occasion it wasn't. We didn't have to go far, though, to find ourselves in a much quieter street, and the Golden Cross looked very inviting:
We asked, with no great hopes, whether they could accommodate two people who didn't want to eat a full meal, and were surprised by the enthusiasm of the reply - I can certainly do that for you!. We ordered a bowl of salted almonds, a half litre of sauvignon blanc, a fishy starter for durham_rambler and the cheeseboard for me:
and congratulated ourselves on having found exactly what we were looking for. The full menu looked good, too, but that's for another time.
On Sunday morning we headed off to Wem, to continue the party at the home of our hostess. By this time most of the stragglers had departed, and the only other house guest, apart from ourselves, was a schoolfriend who had, in the intervening years, returned to her native Newfoundland, and who was staying on to join the unbirthday girl and another schoolfriend for a short break in Trier (this is apparently our fault - I hope they are enjoying it!). I can't call Sunday a quiet day, because we talked non-stop - but the pleasures were those of conversation, and we tore through the crossword at record speed.
We set off for home on Monday morning. The plan was for a minimum of delay and diversion, as we had to be in Durham for a meeting in the early evening, but we needed to fit in a lunch stop and a little essential shopping, and initially we thought we might take the M6 all the way, and break somewhere pleasant, Kirkby Stephen, perhaps? But it was not to be. Signs on the motorway warned of long delays ahead, so we turned onto the M62, and stopped at 'the Boroughbridge services' (otherwise known as Morrisons supermarket). Oh, well...
So the fun part of the weekend was shorter in practice than it had been in anticipation, but no less sweet.
This entry cross-posted from Dreamwidth: comments always welcome, at either location.